The Winner Takes It All
by GeneHuntress
Summary: When the Guv starts leaving work before beer o'clock, Alex is more than a little curious. Could he really have a secret lover? And why does that thought bother her so much? AU, set mainly post S2 but with some early 70s action. For the sake of this fic, Alex wasn't shot, not even a little bit. Rated T for now, but will become M later for all the usual reasons.
1. Chapter 1

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, so here's the usual festive fic – it seems to have become a tradition now! I feel this one may benefit from a brief introduction.

During a recent rewatch, I noticed that prostitution seemed to be a recurring theme throughout the first two series of A2A. Alex is mistaken for a hooker on her very first appearance. She deliberately dresses as one in the Simon Neary episode and later lies to Gene about having actually worked as one. There's a whole episode pretty much dedicated to the subject, and other references scattered throughout both series.

Gene's attitude interested me, particularly in respect of young female sex workers. In his own gruff way he's kind to both Nina, the rape victim in S1 and Sal, the stripper from Manchester in S2 – and he's clearly sickened by the exploitation of teenage virgins, and the fact that Supermac was capable of turning a blind eye. The old imagination started working overtime, and this story is the result!

Gene is not mine (sadly) and neither is Alex, but Lily belongs entirely to me. Without further ado …

….

.

 **The Winner Takes It All**

 **.  
**

 **Chapter 1 – Manchester, 1970**

 **.**

 _The game is on again_

 _A lover or a friend_

 _A big thing or a small_

 _The winner takes it all._

 _._

The first time he crossed paths with her was in a police cell. She sat on the bench, scrunched up against the wall with her arms wrapped around her knees defensively, looking more like a street urchin than a street walker. Gene leant back against the wall, long legs crossed at the ankle, and her one good eye narrowed as she regarded him warily.

He'd wanted to wince when he first saw her face. Her other eye so swollen and puffy she couldn't see out of it; her lip badly spilt; and one side of her face turning various shades of purple with the bruising. What kind of a bastard did this to a woman, even if she was a prostitute? They regarded one another for a long moment, and then Gene broke the silence.

"What's yer name, luv?"

"What do you want it ter be?"

She raised her chin defiantly and he sighed, reaching inside his jacket for his fags, but never breaking eye-contact. As he lit up, the fight seemed to go out of her.

"It's Lily. An' I don't suppose you can spare one, can yer?"

He lit a second cigarette and passed it across. Her hand shook as she accepted it gratefully, wincing at the pain as she pursed her lips and inhaled deeply.

"Has the doc seen yer yet?"

She nodded.

"Nothin' broken. Seems I've been lucky this time. Funny, 'lucky' isn't exactly the word I'd 'ave used."

Gene didn't reply immediately, just took a long drag and blew the smoke towards the ceiling. Lily regarded his profile, her head cocked to one side. Well-shaped nose, strong jaw, mane of dark blond hair. And those piercing blue eyes were something else. All in all, he was rather attractive, she had to admit. The cigarette dangled from long elegant fingers and as he slipped it between his pouting lips the action was so sensual that it sent a shiver of desire skittering down her spine. She amended her original assessment. He was sex on legs.

"This isn't the first time you've been picked up for solicitin', is it, luv?"

She rolled her eyes. So this was the direction things were heading in, then? Not always easy to escape with a caution, especially if a senior officer fancied a freebie. Still, it wouldn't be such a trial with him, at least. She fixed him with a cocky stare.

"OK, what will it take to get out of here tonight? Blow job? That's what most men want, seein' as their wives don't do 'that kind of thing'."

She waggled her fingers around the words. To his credit, Gene didn't miss a beat.

"Mine does."

He held her gaze, noting her good eye widening in surprise at his response. Somewhat encouraged, he continued.

"Every Preston Guild, without fail …"

She snorted in amusement, she couldn't help it. It was a joke most Northerners would get immediately, Preston only holding a guild ceremony every twenty years.

"So you can relax on that score. I'm a happily married man, me."

She took a long drag of her cigarette and shrugged, raising a cynical eyebrow.

"Yeah, that's what they all say. Just around the time they're shovin' their dicks down me throat."

Gene sighed heavily and crossed his arms, regarding her through the haze of smoke.

"How did you end up on the streets, luv?"

Normally she'd have told any copper asking that question to go screw himself, but somehow this one was different. He seemed genuinely interested.

"Same way most lasses do, I guess. Lesser of two evils."

He said nothing, just waited patiently for her to continue, and to her surprise she found she wanted to tell him. She took a deep breath, knowing it wouldn't be easy to revisit her past.

"Me dad died when I was fourteen. It was tough on both of us, me mother and me, but she was the one strugglin' to make enough to keep us. I did what I could, yer know? Got a paper-round, made some extra money on the weekends and in the holidays, but it was still a bloody battle. And then she met this bloke. He seemed really nice at first, made her laugh, brought us both little presents, but after they got engaged and we moved in with him, everythin' changed."

Gene noticed the shudder that ran through her but he didn't interrupt. She was finally opening up to him, and he knew it couldn't be easy. She took a final shaky drag of her cigarette and dropped the butt to the floor, screwing it underfoot with some venom.

"Thought I was imaginin' it at first – the sneaky little touches, the way he rubbed up against me sometimes when she wasn't around – but then he started gropin' me at every opportunity. I tried to find a way to tell her, but she didn't want ter know."

She shrugged dismissively, wrapping her arms defensively around herself and suddenly she looked like a lost fifteen-year-old again. He already knew where this was heading, but she needed to tell the whole sorry story.

"Two days after me sixteenth birthday he encouraged me mum to go out with a mate for the evenin', and I just knew. I took a carvin' knife from the kitchen drawer, hid it under me pillow and sat on the bed waiting. I couldn't lock the door because he'd nicked the key but when he came for me, I was ready. Threatened to skewer him, told him I was packin' a case and if he tried to stop me I'd tell me mum exactly what he'd been up to."

"Bastard."

Gene spat the word out, reaching into his jacket for his hipflask. He passed it to her first, and she took it gratefully, grimacing as the whiskey hit the back of her throat.

"Yeah, well, the world's full of 'em. I'm not the first and I won't be the last."

She passed the flask back and he took a good slug. It didn't erase the sour taste in his mouth.

"Where did yer go?"

"To stay with a friend at first, but I couldn't kip on her sofa forever. I ended up sleepin' rough and when me savings ran out a couple of the girls I'd met suggested I start turnin' tricks. Easy money, they said. Well, not for a sixteen-year-old virgin, it wasn't. Not at first, anyway. Gets easier after the first few times. You stop cryin' and just think about the money…"

Gene's stomach churned at the thought of what she'd had to endure, but he knew sympathy wasn't any help to her now. He took a deep breath.

"You know we've about as much chance of catchin' the low-life that did this to you as findin' a bacon butty at a bar mitzvah, don't yer? And I can't say yer detailed description was a great help. 'His midget dick was a bloody health-hazard?'"

She had the decency to look suitably abashed.

"Yeah, well, can yer blame me? I 'aven't exactly found you lot helpful in the past."

He pouted, fixing her with an unblinking blue-eyed stare that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I'm not fond of arseholes that use their fists on women when they don't get what they want. If you can give us a bit more ter go on, I'll move heaven an' earth to nail 'im. No promises, mind. It's a big city."

She nodded, seeing no pity only compassion and understanding in his eyes.

"I'll try. Don't want someone else to go through this, after all."

He paused, deciding on the best approach.

"How old are yer, Lil?"

"Twenty-three."

"If you want to see twenty-four, its time to make some changes. It'll keep on happenin', and I don't want to be the one to unzip the body bag and see your pretty face lookin' back at me."

She huffed and looked away.

"Yeah, 'cause I've got so many better alternatives."

"Might be able to help you out there."

Her head swivelled around as he fished about in his inside jacket pocket and passed a card to her. On it was written a name and an address, and she furrowed her brows in puzzlement.

"I've known Brenda forever, she's a diamond. I hear she's got a couple of rooms free at the mo and it beats bein' on the streets. Just tell her I sent yer and you'll be well in."

Confusion turned to bitterness and hurt. She'd let her guard down, trusted him, and he'd turned out to be bent, just like all the others. How stupid was she?

"A knockin' shop. So what's the arrangement between you an' her, then? She greases yer palm to turn a blind eye? Or is it payment in kind? You coppers, yer all the bloody same."

Her mouth twisted with scorn as she spat out the last sentence and waited for his justifiable rage to visit itself upon her. His calm reply caught her completely off-guard.

"Yer right, Brenda and I do have an 'arrangement', of sorts."

She gaze flew to meet his and she was surprised to see amusement in his eyes rather than anger. He shrugged.

"We both like a flutter on the gee-gees but it's not really the done thing for a woman to go into the bookies, so if she spots some form in the Racin' Post, she gives me a bell and I put the bet on for her. Sometimes call round there on a Saturday afternoon to watch it on the telly with her. If she loses, I get tea and Garibaldis. If she wins, she breaks out the single Malt. Suits us both fine."

Lily wasn't often lost for words, but he'd completely blind-sided her this time. She opened her mouth and closed it again, struggling to form a suitable reply.

"Seems I might've misjudged yer. Sorry."

He smirked.

"No 'arm done. And I doubt you'll be the last. Just promise me yer'll go and see Brenda as soon as you get out o' here."

She sighed in resignation.

"Alright, I promise. Happy?"

The smile, when it came, was both unexpected and genuine. It lit up the cell, and her stomach fluttered oddly in response. Must be lack of food, she thought.

"You got anywhere to be tonight? It's late, probably best if yer stay over and give a description in the mornin'. I'll see you get some blankets and a hot meal."

She raised a quizzical eyebrow, touching her painful jaw gingerly.

"Any chance of a bowl of soup?"

He barked a laugh, turning towards the door.

"I'm sure that can be arranged. Go and see Brenda tomorrow, I promise yer won't regret it."

And then he was gone, and the cell seemed somehow empty without his larger-than-life presence.

….

.

Not very festive as yet, I know, but I promise that will change in the next few chapters. Hope you enjoyed anyway! If so, do leave a review, it always makes my day. :)


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the kind reviews – it's nice to know that even after all this time people still read LOM and Ashes fics. Gone, but not forgotten, huh? *sigh*

Back to familiar territory in this chapter, although they may be sailing into treacherous waters …

….

 **Chapter 2 – London, 1982**

 **.**

Alex looked up as Gene strode past her desk and headed for the double doors of CID without even a glance in her general direction. The first couple of times, she'd barely registered his absence. A few months on, the Guv quitting the office early on a semi-regular basis had her more than a little intrigued. Truth to tell, the curiosity was driving her mad. She frowned, pursing her lips. There was only one thing for it; she'd have to ask Ray. If anyone knew what the Gene was up to, it'd be him. _Keep it casual, Alex. Pretend it's just a passing interest._ She cleared her throat, fiddling nonchalantly with a pen as DI Carling looked up and caught her eye.

"I see the Guv's off early again. Don't suppose you know anything about it, do you?"

Ray leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, and gave her a lascivious grin.

"Maybe he's seein' someone. 'Bout time, if you ask me."

Alex furrowed her brows.

"At five o'clock on a Wednesday afternoon? Unusual time for a date, isn't it?"

Ray shrugged, his grin widening.

"Who said anythin' about a date? She's probably married, has to … ahem … fit 'im in when she can."

He winked at Chris, who sniggered at the all too obvious innuendo. Alex's stomach clenched as a sudden lurid vision sprang into her head: Gene naked in bed with a buxom blonde, her face contorted in pleasure as she dug her long nails into his broad shoulders.

"Trust you to jump to the usual sordid conclusion, DI Carling."

Rolling her eyes, she made a pretence of returning to her paperwork, but her mind was whirling. If Ray didn't know, Gene was definitely up to something. The question was what?

...

Alex sat in Luigi's, a barely touched plate of pasta in front of her, checking her watch for the umpteenth time. Just after seven. If this Wednesday went the way of the others, he'd be strolling through the door very shortly. Would he look happy? More relaxed than usual? If so, did that mean he'd spent the last hour or so in another woman's bed? She drummed her fingers on the table. If she was married, they'd be more likely to meet at a hotel, surely? She could picture the scene all too easily: a badly-lit room with furnishings that had seen better days; a vast double bed with rumpled sheets; the rhythmic sound of creaking bedsprings; a woman's enthusiastic moans mingling with Gene's grunts of pleasure until finally they both reached a loud and ecstatic climax.

"Make it stop, for god's sake!"

She muttered it under her breath, reaching for her glass of wine and taking a large swig. Feeling somewhat hot and bothered, she contemplated making a trip to the ladies to throw some cold water over her flushed face, but it was too late: Gene suddenly materialised from nowhere, dark overcoat swirling around him, eating up the floor with his long strides and looking for all the world like some kind of avenging angel. The breath caught in her throat as it always did at the sight of him, but she made a concerted effort to look nonchalant as he shed his outwear and took a seat next to her. Catching Luigi's eye, he motioned for another glass and then turned his attention to Alex. She felt her face redden even further under his intense scrutiny, pushing her food away and picking up her glass again.

"You're looking a tad flushed, Lady Bols. Been 'aving filthy thoughts about me again?"

Caught out, she immediately went on the defensive, snapping back a swift retort.

"Don't flatter yourself, Guv. It's just warm in here, that's all."

He crossed his arms, contemplating her for a long moment.

"Hmmm. Flushed, and tetchy with it. Got the decorators in, 'ave we?"

Alex cast her eyes heavenwards and huffed out an exasperated breath as Luigi approached with a glass and another bottle of red. The little Italian beat a hasty retreat, sensing a storm was brewing.

"Of all the DCIs in all the world, I have to end up with Cro-Magnon man. Well, thankyou, god. Thankyou very much."

"Crow who?"

"One step up from a Neanderthal, Gene. Unlike you."

She mumbled the last couple of words just loudly enough so he could hear.

"They were big and strong and manly, weren't they?"

Alex snorted out a laugh and turned her head, meeting his piercing blue-eyed gaze for the first time that evening, and immediately regretting it. There was nothing remotely troll-like about her superior officer: he looked rumpled and sexy, as usual. And way too relaxed for her liking.

"And uncouth. And uncivilised …"

Gene smirked at her, completely unperturbed.

"You posh birds love a bit of rough. Admit it, just thinkin' about it moistens yer gusset."

Alex sighed heavily, toying with the stem of her glass.

"Give me a man who can hold a decent conversation any day."

Gene leant in close, his breath warm against her neck.

"I can talk dirty with the best of 'em, Bols."

His low growl sent a shiver of arousal skittering down her spine. A vision of the two of them rolling around enthusiastically beneath her red duvet, assaulted her: she could almost hear his gravelly lust-filled voice in her ear as he described in graphic detail exactly what he planned to do to her. The beginnings of an involuntary moan escaped her parted lips, and she caught the rumble of his knowing chuckle before swiftly turning it into a groan.

"Feeling alright, Bolly-Kecks?"

Hearing the amusement in his voice, she bristled, massaging her temples.

"No, actually. I have a tension headache coming on. I should probably take a couple of painkillers and lie down before it gets any worse."

"Need any assistance? Me bedside manner is legendary, after all."

She gritted her teeth, suddenly reminded of the earlier conversation with Ray. How dare he flirt with her after coming straight from the bed of another woman? The urge to bait him was suddenly overwhelming, and she turned to face him with a derisive snort.

"If I said yes, you'd run a mile and you know it!"

He held her gaze, his eyes glittering.

"Not a mile, just as far as yer front door. Wouldn't want to tire meself out, after all."

A thrill ran through her, and she leaned in close, so close that their noses were almost touching.

"Do tell, Gene. In the unlikely event that I did invite you into my boudoir, what _would_ you do with me?"

His gaze dropped to her mouth and then back up to meet her eyes again. The air around them crackled with static, the atmosphere highly charged, and she held her breath awaiting his response. He took his time, and when he spoke again his voice was a low sexy rumble.

"I'd cuff yer to the bed, Bolly-Knickers. And find a better use for that smart mouth of yours than pointless conversation."

The obvious inference caught Alex off-guard, her gaze flicking down to his groin and back up to his face before she could prevent it. Gene made no effort to hide the obvious bulge in his trousers, and the predatory gleam in his eyes left her in no doubt as to his state of mind. Heat rushed through her and she swallowed, suddenly struggling to breathe.

"I ... need to go to bed. Alone. I'll see you in the morning, Guv."

Grabbing her coat and bag, she fled from the trattoria, knowing full well his hungry gaze would be on her jeans-clad rear all the way to the door.

.

…

.

Has the Guv taken up with a Diana Dors look-alike? You'll have to come back in a couple of days to find out!

Hope you enjoyed. If so, do let me a know. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks again to all who are reading, and especially to those who've taken the time to leave a review. It is appreciated!

Back into Gene's past again …

.

...

 **Chapter 3 – Manchester 1970**

 **.**

It was just after five on a dull Wednesday afternoon. Lily sat curled up in an armchair, a trashy romance novel open in her lap, although she was doing more daydreaming than actual reading. Mainly about a big handsome gruff DCI with a warm heart who had literally changed her life overnight. She'd make a point of showing her gratitude if she ever saw him again, that was for sure. Smirking to herself, she glanced around the room, still surprised that it was hers and hers alone. She had occasionally been in possession of a door, but in the past that was no guarantee of security. Here she knew she was safe, although it had taken several days before she'd even begun to relax.

Brenda proved to be the star that Gene had predicted: motherly, protective and caring of all her girls. Lily was worried about the fact she hadn't been capable of working since her arrival, but Brenda would hear none of it. _You rest up and recover, luv. There'll be time enough to find some regular punters when you stop looking like you've been ten rounds with Muhammad Ali._ A couple of taps at the door made her sit bolt upright, heart racing.

"You decent, Lil?"

It was only Brenda, for god's sake. Old habits died hard, though.

"Give me a couple of seconds, Bren."

Grabbing the novel, she shoved it unceremoniously into a drawer. Nobody needed to know about her secret penchant for romance, it wouldn't do much for her credibility. Pulling her robe tighter around her body, she opened the door, the cheeky greeting dying on her lips. Her new boss stood on the threshold and behind her, seeming to take up all the remaining space, stood the very man she'd been having some rather lewd fantasies about recently. She blinked in surprise, suddenly lost for words. Brenda gave her a warm smile.

"You've got a visitor, luv. Don't be conned into feeding 'im more biscuits, he's already eaten half me packet of Garibaldis!"

The detective chief inspector gave her what could only be described as a hard stare.

"I can't 'ave had more than three, yer cheeky mare!"

He winked at Lily, and her heart began to race. He was just as tall and ruggedly handsome as she remembered. While his attention was elsewhere, Brenda reached around behind him and deliberately squeezed his backside. His eyes widened in surprise.

"Oi, mitts off the goods, missus. That's police property yer gropin'!"

"Still the best bum in Manchester, Gene."

She giggled coquettishly as she headed for the stairs and Gene shook his head in mock despair.

"There's a word for women like that, only I'm too polite ter use it …"

Lily risked a tentative smile, feeling somewhat more composed.

"Where are me manners? Come in and make yerself comfortable."

She stepped back to allow him access, closing the door firmly behind him. He paused with his hands in his pockets, gazing around the room before returning his attention to her. To her surprise, he reached up and gently cupped her chin, tilting her face to one side, as he surveyed the damage. Her lip had healed and the swelling around her eye was almost gone. Granted, her cheek was still a mass of yellowing bruises, but at least it was a vast improvement on the first time he'd seen her. He gave a brief nod of satisfaction and released her.

"Much better. Yer pretty face will be back to normal in no time."

"I … um … ta."

She felt her cheeks begin to colour. To cover her embarrassment, she moved away and busied herself with refreshments.

"Cuppa, DCI Hunt? Or something stronger?"

"I'll take a whiskey if you can spare some, luv. And it's Gene to you."

She opened the bottle of single malt and poured two generous measures, her imagination working overtime. _Gene. It suits him. Wonder if he's here for more than just a chat. God, I really hope so._ Taking a deep breath, she handed him his glass, making sure their fingers touched, if only briefly. She was back in her comfort zone, now: seducing men was something she'd had plenty of practice at, and this one would definitely be worth the effort. Indicating he take a seat, she curled up in the chair opposite and regarded him over her glass.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Gene?"

She tested it on her lips, liking the way it felt. He took a mouthful of his whiskey, sighing in contentment as the spirit hit the back of his throat.

"Just wanted to see how yer were gettin' on, luv."

He turned that mesmerising blue-eyed gaze on her and for a moment she was lost for words. _Those eyes should be illegal._ Clearing her throat, she tried to form a coherent reply.

"Fine. Great, actually. Or I will be, once I can start work again. You were right, Brenda is somethin' special. She's been so good to me."

She tailed off, finding herself surprisingly emotional all of a sudden. It was just that she wasn't used to people being kind, she supposed. Gene waited, knowing there was more.

"Anyway, ta muchly, DCI Hunt … Gene. I owe yer one. Or several."

She gave him a seductive look from under her lashes, hoping he'd take the hint. Whatever he wanted, she'd be more than happy to provide. The thought made her stomach clench in anticipation.

They made small talk for a while, and by the time he checked his watch and announced his intention to leave, Lily was no clearer as to his motive. Did he really just want to check up on her? Had her experiences with men tarnished her vision so much that she couldn't recognise a true gent when she met one? Either way, she had to know.

"Well, its way past beer o'clock and there's a pint waiting with me name on it. Time I cleared off and left yer to it."

He got to his feet and she followed his lead, moving in close and gazing up into his face.

"I meant it, Gene. I really do owe you one."

She slid her hands slowly over his broad chest, toying with his tie before linking her fingers behind his neck.

"Anything you want. Just name it …"

She licked her lips, her voice low and seductive, her meaning unmistakeable. There was a brief flash of some strong emotion in those incredible blue eyes before the shutters came down again. Need? Desire? Regret? She couldn't be sure. Then he reached up and gently disentangled himself from her embrace, squeezing her hands briefly before returning them to her sides.

"Told yer before, luv, I'm a happily married man. I didn't come here for that. Not that I'm not tempted, you understand."

He held her gaze for a moment, and something in his expression told her he meant it. She sighed, reluctant to let him go.

"Shame. Will yer come back and see me again anyway?"

"I will if yer promise to keep a supply of Garibaldis in. Brenda hides hers from me nowadays."

He pouted at her, feigning annoyance, and she grinned.

"It's a deal."

.

….

.

I remain convinced that underneath that gruff exterior beats a heart of gold. Gotta love the Guv! Hope you enjoyed. If so, do let me know and there may be more Galex soon ...

.


	4. Chapter 4

So, just where is the Guv sneaking off to? If you want to know, you'll have to read on!

.

….

. **Chapter 4 – London, 1982**

 **.**

Alex slumped over her desk, cheek resting on her palm as she attempted to concentrate on the report she was writing. Ten minutes and one whole sentence later, she rubbed a hand wearily across her forehead and sat back with a huff of frustration. Her gaze strayed to the clock on the wall. _Four-forty. He'll be heading out in less than twenty minutes._

Surreptitiously, she glanced over towards his office. Gene was hidden behind the Racing Post, feet up on the desk, a glass of whiskey within easy reach. A plan began to form in her mind. Slipping into her jacket, she grabbed her bag and got to her feet.

"Just remembered something I need to do."

Before anyone could respond, she was halfway out of the door. Chris looked at Ray, who shrugged and shook his head.

"Don't ask me. Bloody women …"

…

"Is there a pool car free, Viv?"

"I think so, ma'am"

A few seconds later, he handed her a key, one eyebrow raised in enquiry.

"Thanks. Shouldn't be long, no more than an hour or so, I expect."

She flashed him a grateful smile and left before he had the chance to respond. Time was of the essence, after all.

By five o'clock she was parked on the opposite side of the street, glad of the early December gloom. Two minutes later, Gene emerged from the building and she slouched down in her seat until he was safely inside the Quattro. Following at a safe distance, she managed to tail him for the next few minutes, aided somewhat by the heavy rush hour traffic. Nobody went anywhere fast in the capital at that time of day.

Before long, they were driving through a quieter residential area; Alex maintaining a discreet distance. The Quattro slowed before reversing into a gap between two parked cars and she continued on, searching for another space while keeping one eye on him in the rear-view mirror. As she pulled in and cut the lights, Gene crossed the road, his long strides eating up the pavement. Reaching the last house in the row, he pushed the gate open and made his way up the front steps. Light spilled out over the small front garden as the door opened, and then he was gone, swallowed up by the tall, three storied Victorian terrace.

Alex slid out of the car and locked the door, her copper's instincts kicking in as she surveyed the area. What must have once been a pleasant street was now less than salubrious: some of the properties had boarded-up windows and there was broken glass and other rubbish littering the pavement. _Where have you brought me to, Guv?_ Grimacing, she followed in Gene's footsteps, trying to stay incognito, shivering in her pathetic white leather jacket.

…

The house appeared better kept than many of the others, but without much to distinguish it. The small front garden consisted of a patchy square of lawn which had seen better days and a flower bed containing a couple of overgrown shrubs: whoever lived here was clearly not much of a gardener. Lights were on in one or two of the rooms, but all the curtains were closed revealing none of its secrets.

Huffing in frustration, she wrapped her arms around her body and made her way along the side of the building, relieved to find that the exterior gave way to an enclosed yard with high walls. A narrow lane separated one row of houses from another, and to her relief the gate swung open silently when she tried the latch. Holding her breath, she stepped tentatively inside.

It was a typical back yard. A small shed stood to one side, the door safely padlocked shut. A couple of steps led up the back door and a wheelie bin sat under what was probably the kitchen window. The curtains had been pulled across without much care, and a sliver of light pierced the gloom. Heart pounding, Alex made her way cautiously forwards, taking a deep breath before peering through the small gap.

The kitchen was spacious and surprisingly modern. In the centre stood a large oak table, and seated at the far end was an attractive blonde, her hair swept back off her face, the odd tendril left loose to soften the look. Her eyes were alive with mirth, her attention focused solely on the man seated to her left. Alex drew in a sharp breath. _Gene!_ His profile was unmistakeable: those long lashes, the lock of hair flopping over his forehead, that familiar pout. As she watched, the woman touched his hand and leaned in to whisper something close to his ear, her breasts almost spilling out of her low cut blouse. Gene's gaze dropped to her impressive cleavage, and Alex felt something twist low in her gut. _Who the hell is she?_

The intimate moment was interrupted when the kitchen door opened and a pretty brunette entered the room, offering what Alex assumed was a brief apology before making her way to a big fridge in the corner. To Alex's surprise, she was wearing a silk robe, a pair of black fishnets and matching stilettos so high they were almost impossible to walk in. She grabbed a bottle of water and leaned over to whisper something to Gene before heading for the door. He smirked and made some remark in return, and the young woman batted her eyelashes and blew him a kiss before exiting the room once more. Alex unclenched her fists and metaphorically donned her detective's hat once more. Maybe the brunette was getting ready for a date? Was the older woman the mother and the younger one the daughter? It was theoretically possible, she mused, even though the blonde couldn't be more than late thirties. _Oh, god. Please tell me Gene isn't the father!_

As soon as the thought leapt into her head, she pushed it away. Gene would've been a young copper in Manchester at the time, and the girl bore no resemblance to him or the woman seated next to him. She breathed a sigh of relief. The kitchen door opened once more and this time the woman who entered was petite and oriental-looking, her robe only loosely covering a low-cut basque. She also mouthed an apology before heading to the fridge, and Alex's mouth dropped open. The woman was wearing leather thigh boots, and Gene's gaze followed her all the way to the door.

Suddenly, it hit Alex like a sledgehammer. _This is a brothel. The Guv is sitting in a knocking shop making eyes at a prostitute. He must be taking kick-backs, maybe even payment in kind._ Sick to her stomach, she staggered to the back door step and sank down, her head in her hands. How could he? According to Sam he'd given all that up years ago. God knows, he was far from perfect, but she really hadn't expected this …

Suddenly desperate to get away, she slipped out of the gate and virtually ran back to the car, sliding into the front seat and slapping the steering wheel hard. _I trusted you, Gene. How could you do this to me?_

 _._

…..

.

Peace on earth and goodwill to all men? It's looking doubtful at present …

If you want more, do let me know. Feedback, even if it's just a couple of words, makes such a difference. I'm hoping to post more before Christmas, but with a lousy cold and three chapters still to go it could be an uphill struggle!


	5. Chapter 5

Usual thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing – it is appreciated. As a thank you, here's a nice long chapter. Just a swift word of warning: now M rated for all the usual reasons, so if smut isn't your thing …

.

…..

.

 **Chapter 5 – Manchester, 1971**

 **.**

Lily checked her face in the mirror once again. A subtle hint of smoky eye-liner and a touch of lip gloss should do the trick: she knew that Gene wasn't a fan of the heavily made-up look. She smoothed down her burgundy shift dress, enjoying the way it accentuated her figure. It was sexy without being too obvious, even though it did reveal a tempting amount of cleavage. Somehow, she felt he'd approve.

Gene had been a regular visitor for several months now, but he still behaved like the perfect gentleman despite her less than subtle attempts at seduction. Oh, he liked to look alright – she'd often caught his gaze lingering on her generous curves and long shapely legs when he thought she wasn't looking. She didn't doubt his interest; it was just that he'd clearly decided not to act on it due to some misguided attempt at chivalry. Still, she refused to give up hope. He'd all but admitted that his marriage was on the rocks, so it was only a matter of time: she'd keep putting temptation in his way until he finally cracked. She was nothing if not patient.

Glancing at her watch again, she was surprised to find it was after six. It wasn't like him to be this late. She fidgeted, gnawing at her lip, unable to settle to anything. It was such a relief to finally hear a knock on the door that she almost tripped over her own feet in her haste to answer it.

"Gene! I was gettin' worried about you."

He gave her a lop-sided grin, which was also out of character.

"Trust the Gene Genie, luv. Practically indestructible, me."

His speech was slurred and he seemed to be having trouble focussing on her face. She stepped aside to allow him entry, frowning as she detected the whisky fumes on his breath. It was no secret that the Guv liked a glass or three after work, but she'd never seen him drunk until now. Swaying slightly on his feet, he made an unsuccessful attempt to shed his jacket.

"Here, let me 'elp."

Between them, they managed to extract him from the offending garment, before he flopped heavily into a chair. Lil seated herself next to him and reached for his hand.

"Want ter tell me about it?"

He often confided in her about the cases he and the team were working on nowadays, knowing that she would never betray his trust. Early on in their friendship she'd reassured him on that point. _Prossies are like priests, Gene – only with a different dress code._ He'd barked out a laugh, but he had been more forthcoming afterwards. She guessed there were things he didn't feel he could share with the missus, and he had to keep up appearances in front of both his subordinates and his superiors. Crimes involving violence towards women and children got to him the most, especially the latter. He sighed, giving her hand a brief squeeze.

"Any chance of a whisky, luv? I've got a mouth like the inside of a postman's sock."

He looked demoralised and exhausted, and her heart went out to him.

"Maybe later, but I think yer could use a black coffee first, don't you?"

He shrugged in defeat, raising his gaze to hers.

"Some evil scum is targetin' little girls. Two so far, sexually assaulted before he did for 'em. Been workin' day and night ter catch the murderin' bastard before he strikes again." He rubbed a weary hand across his forehead. "It makes me sick ter me stomach, Lil."

"I'm so sorry, Gene. I can't imagine what dealin' with stuff like that every day does to a bloke."

She lifted his hand and brought it to her cheek, tears springing to her eyes. He sighed heavily and looked down at his feet.

"Shouldn't be layin' all this on you, luv."

Turning her face, she pressed a kiss to his open palm.

"Don't be daft. You just relax while I make some coffee."

He cupped her face gently, his eyes holding hers.

"Yer a good girl, Lil. Dunno what I'd do without yer sometimes."

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and smiled brightly.

"Lucky for you I'm still around then, isn't it?"

…..

It was hardly a great surprise when she arrived back to find him dead to the world. Sipping her coffee, she sank back into a chair and studied him over the top of the mug. He looked younger in sleep, the lines of worry etched into his forehead less pronounced: insanely long lashes brushed his cheeks, the trademark pout still in place as his chest rose and fell with each breath.

Leaning in, she brushed a stray lock of hair gently back from his forehead and then carefully undid his tie, doing her best not to disturb him. He mumbled in his sleep but didn't wake so she popped a couple more buttons on his shirt, telling herself it was just an attempt to make him more comfortable. The naked 'V' of chest she'd uncovered was too tempting: with a featherlight touch, she ran her fingertips over his warm skin, wishing she could nibble her way slowly down his neck. Idly, she wondered what he would do if he woke to find her seated in his lap, indulging herself. With a sigh of regret, she resisted the urge: he needed his rest, after all.

He slept for over an hour while Lil attempted to read, mostly unsuccessfully, her attention constantly drawn back to his recumbent form. She'd left a glass of water close to hand, certain he'd be suffering from a raging thirst when he did eventually surface. Peering over the top of her book for the umpteenth time, her gaze met a pair of sleepy blue eyes and her stomach flipped. _Oh, to wake to such a glorious sight every morning._ He blinked at her, clearly disorientated for a moment, and then favoured her with a lop-sided smile.

"Hope I 'aven't been kippin' for too long, luv."

Shaking her head, she closed the book and put it to one side.

"An hour or so, that's all."

"Bugger. Great company I am today!"

She waved a hand dismissively.

"Don't be daft. Yer looked done in when you arrived, I'm glad you managed to get some rest."

Gene yawned and stretched, groaning with the effort, before eagerly downing half the glass of water. He grimaced, moving his head from side to side.

"Must've been lyin' awkwardly. Got a crick in me neck now."

Lil stood and held out her hand.

"Come over 'ere, and I'll see if I can help."

To her surprise, he got to his feet without hesitation and let her lead him over to the bed. He sat and she moved to kneel behind him, her heart rate increasing at the thought of getting her hands on him, even if only through the thin cotton of his shirt. His shoulders were tight and she began to knead them, gently at first and then with increasing pressure, spurred on by his grunts of satisfaction. Excitement skittered down her spine as an idea came to her. She ceased her ministrations and spoke, her tone light and persuasive.

"You're very tense, Gene. Why don't you take yer shirt off and lie down? I can give you a proper goin' over then."

She held her breath, unsure what his reaction would be, but he just chuckled and reached for his buttons.

"Best offer I've 'ad all day, luv."

Kicking off his shoes, he made himself comfortable, head resting on his arms, while Lil took a moment to enjoy the view. His shoulders were broad and well-muscled, his back smooth and unblemished, and she couldn't wait to get her hands on him. Slipping out of her dress, she straddled his tight backside and went to work on him; kneading, stroking, massaging, his groans of pleasure music to her ears.

The silk of her black teddy slid over her taut nipples with every movement, and the act of leaning forwards created a delicious friction between her thighs. Arousal pooled low in her belly and it was all she could do not to moan aloud. Time to move things forwards. Palms sweating, she eased herself off him and cleared her throat.

"Turn over, Gene, and I'll do yer front."

He didn't answer immediately, and for a moment she wondered if he'd fallen asleep again. Then he stirred, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"You might need ter give me a minute, luv."

Her heart leapt. Did he mean what she thought he meant?

"Why's that, then?"

"Do I need ter spell it out?"

His voice was gruff and he sounded defensive.

"I'd rather you just showed me."

He huffed into the pillow before finally rolling onto his back, his eyes widening as he took in her choice of lingerie.

"Bloody hell, woman. You tryin' ter finish me off?"

She let her gaze rake slowly down his bare chest until it came to rest on the unmistakeable bulge in his trousers.

"Now there's an idea."

Licking her lips, she reached for his belt and unhooked it, hearing his sharp intake of breath. He tried to sit up but she placed a hand firmly in the centre of his chest and pushed him back down before lowering his fly. Slipping her hand inside, she began to stroke him through his underwear.

"Bloody hell! Yer don't need to …"

"Shhhh, I'm enjoyin' meself."

She freed him from the confines of his briefs and he groaned as she ran one hand up and down his impressive length. He'd definitely been blessed with more than his fair share.

"Mmmm, you are a big boy, Gene."

Straddling his legs, she leaned in, running her tongue around the tip. He groaned and swore as she slid him into her mouth, but he made no further attempt to resist.

She worked him skilfully with her lips, tongue and teeth, until he was cursing and begging her not to stop. Risking a glance up his body, a shiver of anticipation ran through her: with his head thrown back, his eyes closed, fingers gripping the sheets, he was quite a sight to behold. His hips were moving of their own accord now, and she took him deeper, sensing he was very close.

"Lil! I'm gonna … oh, fuck … Jesus H Christ!"

…..

Afterwards, she crawled up the bed to join him, resting her head on his chest, listening to his gradually slowing heart-beat. His arm came around her, his fingers stroking little circles on her thigh and she sighed, breathing in his familiar scent. For a long while neither of them spoke, and then Gene stirred.

"I'm sorry, luv."

She smiled to herself. Typical Gene, always the gentleman. Propping herself up on one elbow, she gazed fondly down at him.

"Nothin' to apologise for. You gave me plenty of warning, but I wanted to …yer know …for you."

His brows furrowed.

"I didn't mean …" He cleared his throat. "That was bloody amazing. But I know yer've always felt obligated, and I took advantage. I never meant to. Too much whisky."

She pressed a finger to his lips before he could say more.

"Ask yerself something, Gene. Who lured who onto the bed? Who stripped down to her underwear and ran her hands all over him? And who couldn't wait ter get inside his trousers?"

She paused, running a teasing finger down his chest. Gene blinked up at her in some confusion.

"Don't yer get it? I'm the one who took advantage. It was nothin' to do with gratitude." She sighed, looking away. It was time for complete honesty. "I've wanted you since the first time we met, and if yer don't shag me brains out soon I'll likely die of frustration."

She felt the heat rise in her face and held her breath, wondering if she'd come on too strong. Suddenly, without warning, he flipped her over onto her back, ignoring her squeal of surprise.

"In that case, far be it from me to disappoint a lady."

He loomed over her and the predatory gleam in his eyes made her stomach flutter with anticipation.

"You'd better kiss me, then, hadn't yer?"

She curled her fingers around his nape and pulled his head down, meeting no resistance. His mouth caressed hers, warm and soft, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to keep him close. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, seeking entry, and she opened to him with a sigh of pleasure, loving the taste of him: whisky, a hint of tobacco and something indefinably Gene. When they finally broke apart she was flushed and breathless, and impatient for more.

He explored the shell of her ear with his tongue, making her shiver with delight, before trailing hot kisses down her throat. Gently, he peeled the straps from her shoulders and freed her breasts from the confines of her lingerie, taking a moment to appreciate the view.

"Knew you'd 'ave beautiful tits, luv."

Lowering his head, he took one taut nipple into his mouth and sucked hard.

"Gene … mmmm … "

She squirmed restlessly beneath him, each tug of his lips sending spirals of wicked heat down between her thighs. Gene reached for the other breast, rolling its straining peak between his long fingers, and she arched her back, wantonly demanding more. His mouth kept up the delicious torture while a hand strayed down her body. One featherlight stroke where she was most sensitive had her gasping as a jolt of pleasure shot through her entire being. Gene dealt with the hook and eye fastening at her crotch with practised ease, sliding two fingers inside her welcoming warmth and thrusting them in and out. A moan died on her lips as the breath caught in her throat. She didn't think she'd survive much more foreplay; she was already teetering on the edge.

"Gene! Please …"

He ceased all his ministrations, the familiar pout back in place.

"Want to be inside you when I make yer come."

"God, yes."

She wriggled impatiently and he chuckled, getting to his feet. In one practised move he shed trousers, underwear and socks before straightening up again. Her eyes widened, her stomach clenching in anticipation. Evidently, he was fully recovered: magnificently so.

"Condom, top drawer. No, wait." She searched his face. "I'm on the pill and I'm clean, Gene."

He pouted, his gaze holding hers.

"I'm no angel, luv, but I've always been careful."

"I guess we're good to go, then."

She smiled, reaching for him, and he blew out a long breath.

"Good job yer've already taken care of business once. I wouldn't last five minutes otherwise …"

He took up residence between her thighs and began to push inside, taking his time, giving her a chance to adjust to the welcome invasion. Lil whimpered in delight, her body opening to him willingly, her internal muscles gripping his hard length. He began to move, slowly at first and then with increasing urgency as her cries and moans spurred him on. She wrapped her legs around his thighs and the change of angle was perfect: suddenly she was flying, wave after wave of bliss crashing over her as she spasmed around him.

Gene's thrusts became more and more erratic until finally he lost all control, spilling into her with a groan of relief.

…

Gene took a long drag from the cigarette and blew it out slowly before placing it between her waiting fingers. Lil lay between his thighs, her back against his broad chest, her head resting under his chin, both of them basking in the afterglow. Her limbs felt heavy, her body languid with fulfilment. A contented silence reigned until finally she broke it with a sigh of satisfaction.

"That was bloody amazing. Yer wife must need her head examinin', that's all I can say."

He grunted, nuzzling into her hair.

"Maybe if I'd spent less time in work and more time in her, things'd be different. Never easy being married to a DCI."

Lil took another drag and let the smoke trail slowly from between her lips.

"Well, if you were my 'usband, I'd make damn sure you couldn't wait to get home ter me every night."

He snorted out a laugh.

"I'd likely be dead in a year. 'Ell of a way ter go, mind."

He lapsed into silence and she waited, feminine intuition telling her that there was more to come.

"Dunno what yer see in a broken down old copper like me, luv."

She turned in his arms, raising herself onto her knees so she could look down into his face. He pouted at her, as handsome, dishevelled and desirable as ever, and she rolled her eyes.

"First, yer the best shag I've ever had. Second, yer hardly old. And third? Well, let's just say I'm not done with yer yet …"

She licked her lips suggestively and he groaned in protest.

"Not even you could raise the dead, sweetheart!"

Soon afterwards, she took great delight in proving him wrong.

.

…

.

Before you start throwing things at me, just remember that the Guv did have a love life BB (Before Bolly). And Lily deserved a bit of fun after everything she'd been through, surely?

If you're waiting for the Galex, you'll just have to be patient. I know, I'm such a tease …

.

A/N. Hoping to get the penultimate chapter up before Christmas, but with only three days to go I'd hate to make a promise I couldn't keep. So far behind with everything due to this lousy cold. Meh.


	6. Chapter 6

Apologies for the delay in updating this fic – I can only blame ill health for much of the festive season. Such is life! Anyway, here's a nice long chapter to make up for it …

.

…

 **Chapter 6 - London, 1982  
**

 **..**

Alex stood on the pavement and gazed up at the building, thinking how innocuous it looked: no different than any other house on the street. Nobody would guess it was a house of ill repute unless they had prior knowledge. Presumably, that was the whole point.

Part of her still clung onto the belief that there might be some other explanation, but logic told her it was a forlorn hope. She'd been so upset the previous evening that she hadn't put in an appearance at Luigi's, unwilling to cross paths with Gene while her emotions were in such turmoil. Instead, she'd opened a bottle of wine and drunk it alone in front of the television, attempting to blot the whole thing all out. Sometime in the early hours of the morning she'd reached a decision: if she wanted to know the truth, she'd have to gird her loins and enter the lion's den.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the gate open and made her way up to the front door, leaning on the bell before she could change her mind. It being only mid morning, she half expected to be ignored. Did brothels operate twenty-four hours a day? She really had no idea. Just as she was about to give up, she heard the distinctive sound of a bolt being drawn back and then the door swung open.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, but it pays to take care around here."

On the threshold stood the attractive blonde she'd spied on the previous evening, casually dressed in a crisp white blouse and palazzo pants, a welcoming smile on her face.

"DI Drake, I presume? I've been expecting a visit."

….

Caught by surprise, it took Alex a couple of seconds to regain her equilibrium and find her voice.

"How did you know?"

"Gene described you well. That, and the fact that we get very few female visitors, of course. Won't you come in?"

Alex stepped inside, glancing around her, somewhat surprised by the interior. The décor was minimalist and understated; pale magnolia walls and dark grey rugs contrasted with polished wood flooring. Prints by famous French artists of the demimonde – Manet, Degas, Toulouse-Lautrec – distracted the eye from the monochrome palette. She was not surprised, however, to recognise the underlying theme: all paid homage to courtesans, loose women and ladies of the night. _So, turns out I wasn't mistaken after all._

Her stomach roiled and for a second she thought breakfast might make an unscheduled reappearance. She hadn't realised until that moment how much she needed to be wrong. _Breathe, Alex._ The queasiness passed, only to be replaced with righteous anger. _More fool me for trusting him. Damn you, Gene Hunt._ Undeterred, she followed her hostess into a cosy parlour, complete with an open fire and a couple of comfortable-looking armchairs.

"Take a seat and I'll make us both some tea. I'm Lily, by the way."

Alex gave her a brittle smile.

"Actually, I'd rather stand."

"Please yourself."

Lily shrugged, switching on the kettle and readying a tray with a china tea set and a plate of biscuits. Alex was both aggravated and impressed in equal measure at her hostess' composure. She took a deep calming breath, attempting to centre herself before speaking.

"I know DCI Hunt is a regular visitor, so please don't try to deny it. It's my guess that he's been taking kick-backs for turning a blind eye to your … activities."

Despite her best efforts, the anger refused to stay contained. Unable to stand still, she began to pace up and down.

"Is it cash, or payment in kind? He's hardly short of money, so I'm assuming the latter. Tell me - do you offer your own services, or does he get his pick of the girls? He really has sunk to new depths this time …"

Once she got started she found she couldn't stop: the words poured out uninterrupted until finally she ran out of steam, rounding on Lily who was now watching patiently from the comfort of her armchair.

"Well? Have you nothing to say for yourself?"

"Plenty. I was just waiting until I could get a word in edgeways. And please sit down, all this pacing is making me dizzy."

Alex's jaw dropped. _The cheek of the woman!_ Still, she was interested to know what Lily had to offer in her defence, so she reluctantly took the seat opposite.

"Milk and sugar?"

"Just milk, please."

Lily did the honours and then sat back, studying Alex over the rim of her cup.

"What exactly do you think is happening here, DI Drake?"

Alex rolled her eyes.

"I thought I'd made that quite clear." She leant forwards, her eyes burning. "Do you deny having sex with DCI Hunt, then?"

Lily didn't miss a beat.

"Not at all, although it was a long time ago. Way too long, in my opinion. And I can assure you that no money ever changed hands. As if a man as attractive as Gene would ever need to pay for it." She snorted derisively. "How long have you worked together, by the way?"

"Long enough. Why?"

Alex raised her chin defiantly. This conversation was not going remotely the way she had anticipated.

"Because you don't seem to know him very well. For all his faults, Gene Hunt is the best man I've ever met. He probably saved my life back in Manchester, and he asked nothing from me in return."

Despite herself, Alex was intrigued.

"You're from Manchester? You don't have much of an accent."

"I took elocution lessons before I moved down here, thought it might be better for business. And just so you know, I seduced Gene, not the other way around. I wanted him, and I was determined to have him."

Alex blinked in surprise, and Lily suppressed a smirk.

"Does that shock you?"

"Yes. No …"

"You've no reason to be jealous, though. As I said, it was a long time ago."

"Jealous? Don't be ridiculous!"

Feeling suddenly exposed, Alex crossed her arms in front of her chest, her gut clenching.

"Alex …may I call you that?" Alex gave a curt nod, and Lily continued. "Ask yourself which is worse: the idea of him taking a kick-back or the thought of him with another woman. You're clearly attracted to him, so why try and deny it? "

Lily leant forwards in her chair, her expression softer.

"As I once said to Gene, prostitutes are like priests – you can tell us anything and trust that it won't go any further."

"There's really nothing to tell."

Alex fidgeted in her chair, knowing that statement wasn't entirely true.

"I must admit, I find that difficult to believe."

Lily raised an eyebrow, her expression sceptical. Alex sighed, unwilling to meet her eyes.

"Alright, I admit we have become quite close. There's been some flirting, and he did once ask me out to dinner. But he's not seriously interested."

"What makes you think that? Where I come from, a bloke doesn't ask a woman out for no good reason!"

"Because I once tried to seduce him and he turned me down flat."

Alex huffed, wishing she hadn't just blurted it out, but Lily didn't flinch.

"Interesting. Tell me more."

"We'd both had a lot to drink, I practically offered myself to him on a plate – and he walked away."

"Ah." Lily nodded knowingly. "Can't say I'm surprised. The Gene I know would never take advantage of a drunken woman, especially not one he works with. What if you'd regretted it in the morning? Your professional relationship would never have recovered. And there's another reason, of course: if Gene chose to sleep with a woman, he'd definitely want her to remember the experience. And believe me, it'd be memorable. For all the right reasons, I might add."

Alex saw the flash of pain in her eyes before she schooled her features into a rueful smile.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't. And the incident with Gene was a moment of madness, that's all. I consider it a lucky escape."

Alex reached for a biscuit and began to nibble on it, attempting to look suitably nonchalant.

"If you don't mind me asking, what prompted the move south? Something tells me you weren't just tired of Manchester."

"You're right. It had very little to do with the city, and everything to do with the fact that the only man I've ever loved was suddenly 300 miles away."

Alex blinked in surprise.

"You were in love with Gene?"

Lily sighed.

"I was. Still am, much good may it do me."

Alex sat back and crossed her legs.

"I think maybe you should tell me the whole story. If you want to, that is."

"I think I'd like that."

Lily proceeded to fill Alex in with everything that had happened up to and including her seduction of Gene. Alex listened patiently, trying not to give anything away, even though her stomach clenched at the thought of the Guv in another woman's arms. Lily paused, pouring them both another cup of tea before continuing.

"After that, we fell into a kind of routine. He would turn up every other Wednesday, knowing that was my one day off. We'd talk for a while, and then end up in bed together. I lived for those visits – it made the rest of it bearable, you know?"

She took a sip of her tea.

"I tried not to think too much about the future, even after his wife left. I suppose I always had a vague hope that he might wake up one day and realise he couldn't live without me, but it never happened. I should've listened to Brenda's advice: she warned me not to get involved, but we can't help which way we fall, can we? Anyway, things went on like that for a long time – years, in fact - and then all of a sudden, everything changed."

"Go on …"

Alex was fascinated at this insight into the Guv's previous existence, even though it wasn't easy to hear. Lily took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Gene turned up unannounced one night. By that time, Brenda had retired and I was running the business, so my evenings were my own and he knew he was always welcome. I guessed straight away that something was wrong because he said very little, just took me straight to bed, and he was … driven. Not that I was complaining, you understand, but it was obvious he was battling some demons. Afterwards, he was lost in his own thoughts. He held me for a while and then he got up and got dressed without a word. He didn't speak again until he was heading out of the door, and then all he said was 'Sam's gone.'"

…

Lily fell silent, clearly lost in her memories. Alex waited, knowing there was more to come, and eventually the other woman looked up and gave her a wistful smile.

"Sorry, I was miles away."

Alex shrugged sympathetically.

"Don't worry, its fine."

The other woman stared into space for a moment, clearly gathering her thoughts.

"After that night, he changed. I knew he was grieving, but it was more than that." She glanced up at Alex. "It was like his whole world had shifted and he was struggling to come to terms with it. Does that make any sense?"

It certainly did to Alex, knowing what she knew.

"I think so. The loss of someone close can hit a person hard. It forces us to reassess our lives, and also to deal with the prospect of our own mortality."

Lily nodded thoughtfully.

"Maybe that was it. Anyway, a couple of months later, totally out of the blue, he told me he'd put in for a transfer and it'd been approved. That wasn't a huge surprise – fresh start, and all that – but when he told me he was moving down to London, I couldn't believe it. I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest …"

She tailed off for a moment, the memory clearly still painful.

"If he'd only asked me to go with him, I'd have packed a bag that night, but he didn't. He took Ray and Chris along, but not me - not the woman he'd been seeing for nine years." She forced a smile. "Still, I could never hold it against him, even though it hurt like hell. It wasn't as if he'd made me any promises, after all."

"Did you never tell him how you felt?"

Lily shook her head and Alex ached for her.

"Only once, while he was sleeping. I think I always knew he didn't feel the same way, so what would have been the point? At least we parted on good terms. There's something to be said for that."

Alex took a sip of her tea, knowing she had to ask.

"Did you move down here hoping things might be different? Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that."

Lily frowned.

"I'm not sure. Maybe. I just couldn't bear being that far away from him, and I thought maybe if he wasn't seeing anyone …"

"…you could go back to your old arrangement?"

Alex finished her sentence and Lily shrugged.

"Sad, I know. But I still love him, despite everything. And some contact is better than none, even if we are just friends nowadays."

Alex leaned forwards and gave her hand a quick squeeze.

"I'm sorry. Truly."

"Ah well, who ever said life was fair? I should know that better than most."

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

"Another few years and I'll have saved enough money to quit the business. Maybe I'll do a bit of travelling, meet a handsome millionaire. Who knows?"

The two women exchanged a genuine smile, and then Lily cleared her throat.

"So. Did you get the answers you came for, then?"

"I did. And I apologise for my earlier accusations. They were unfair and unjustified."

"But understandable, given the circumstances." Lily cocked her head to one side and studied Alex. "It wouldn't have worked out between me and Gene, I see that now. I'd never have been enough for him: he needs a woman who won't take any nonsense, one who'll challenge him and keep him on his toes. He talks about you all the time, you know. I should probably hate you, but all I really want to see him happy."

Alex blinked at her in surprise.

"You seriously think I might be contemplating a relationship with Gene Hunt? He's overbearing, misogynistic, opinionated, frequently crude …"

"… kind, decent, honourable, undeniably handsome, and sexy as hell."

Alex opened her mouth and closed it again, and Lily leant forward, holding her gaze.

"Trust me, it's you he wants, Alex. Are you honestly telling me you've never considered the idea?"

Alex huffed, crossing her arms defensively, knowing Lily had just seen right through her.

"Alright, I admit he's not unattractive and he has his good points. But we work together, it'd be way too complicated."

Lily gave her a long, assessing look.

"That's just a convenient excuse. There's nothing you can't figure out between the two of you, if you put your minds to it. The big question you have to ask yourself is, do you want it enough?"

.

….

.

Well, does she? Looks like Alex has some serious thinking to do. If she decides she doesn't want him, I'm first in the queue! Just sayin' … ;)

.

A/N I'm working on the final chapter now – will post as soon as soon as I can. Assuming people are still reading, that is! Do let me know, won't you?


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks to everyone who's still reading, especially those who have taken the time to leave a review. I does spur me on to keep writing, especially as this fic is already much longer than was originally intended!

With that in mind, I've decided to split the final chapter into two – at least that way I can post an update while working on the conclusion. I apologise in advance for Alex's smutty mind. Obviously, it has nowt to do with me. Ahem … ;)

.

...

.

 **Chapter 7 – London, 1982**

 **.**

It was "Christmas Eve Eve", as Molly had cheerfully christened the twenty-third of December. Awaiting Gene's arrival, Alex was seated at their usual table in Luigi's. She smiled sadly at the bittersweet memory and raised a glass in a toast to her daughter.

"Merry Christmas, Mols. Hope you're having fun, wherever you are."

The pain never went away, but it had dulled somewhat over time. Sighing, she took a sip from the glass of wine that was really only there as a prop: she had no intention of drinking much that evening and endangering her carefully laid plans.

After her illuminating encounter with Lily, Alex had done a lot of soul-searching. She could no longer deny her attraction to Gene but deciding whether to act on it had given her several sleepless nights. What if she decided to take things further and it didn't work out? Would they still be able to maintain a working relationship? The Guv was her rock, the one constant in this strange new reality she found herself in, and she couldn't risk losing that.

Then events had taken an unexpected turn, and the decision had virtually made itself. Gene had emerged from his office the previous afternoon to rally the troops in his usual inimitable style: head held high, eyes flashing, chest out, his feet firmly planted on the floor, he was quite a sight to behold. His piercing blue-eyed gaze captured hers and her skin prickled with awareness as a shiver of desire trickled slowly down her spine. In that brief moment, everything became crystal clear. _He wants me and I couldn't bear to think of him with anyone else. Lily's right, we can find a way to make this work._ Once resolved on this course of action, she felt as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Now all she had to do was persuade Gene that she was in earnest.

She glanced at her watch: almost seven. He'd no doubt be on his way back from visiting Lily by now. Her stomach clenched, a potent mix of nerves and anticipation, but she resisted picking up her glass and taking a good swig. Any sign that she wasn't entirely in control could wreck her carefully thought-out strategy. Smoothing down her little black dress, she crossed her legs, happy to note the flash of stocking-top revealed by the action. That and the generous amount of cleavage she was flaunting should be more than enough to arouse his interest: she could only hope that events unfolded the way she planned and he got to enjoy the full effect of the sexy lingerie she'd purchased especially for the occasion.

To distract herself, she glanced around the trattoria, allowing herself a certain sense of satisfaction. Several weeks previously, Luigi had emerged from behind the bar one evening with the dreaded cardboard box of Christmas decorations and a beaming smile. A collective shudder ran around her CID colleagues and Alex decided that someone needed to do something for the sake of all their sanities. Employing a mix of tact and feminine charm, she'd tentatively explained to the little Italian that a traditional English Christmas owed much to the colours of nature: the subtle greens of fir and ivy and mistletoe, the bright red of holly berries and a robin's breast, interspersed with touches of white to represent a crisp blanket of snow.

The following lunchtime, they'd gone through the box together and Luigi had reluctantly agreed to give up the bubblegum pink tinsel and lime green streamers she remembered all too vividly from the previous December. He did, however, put up a spirited argument in defence of anything in canary yellow.

"But signorina, it is cheerful, it is natural: the colour of sunshine!"

Alex's immediate response was to steer him outside and motion towards the leaden grey sky and general gloom of a late November afternoon.

"This is Britain not Brindisi, Luigi. There is no sun in the winter."

The little Italian had sighed heavily, reluctantly admitting defeat, and discussions had continued apace. Alex mooted a more subtle colour scheme than previously: predominantly dark green and crimson intermingled with plain white fairy lights, plus some touches of silver to give the room a hint of festive sparkle. Luigi furrowed his brows.

"But silver, she is not a colour from nature, surely?"

Alex smiled indulgently and explained that the spirit of the season did allow for some poetic licence.

"Just picture a Dickensian Christmas card - children skating on a frozen lake, snow-covered fields glittering in the sunlight …"

The little man crossed his arms and gave her a sly sideways look.

"But signorina – there is no sun in winter, is there?"

Alex opened her mouth to reply and then shut it again, and Luigi returned to polishing glasses, whistling quietly, his expression suitably smug.

...

Alex shook her head ruefully at the memory. Looking around her, though, she had to admit it had been worth all her efforts in the end. The bar was festooned with garlands of holly and ivy and strung with pure white fairy lights. Admittedly, the greenery was artificial, but the effect was still pleasing. There were a few discreet streamers adorning the rafters and the small artificial tree in the corner was decked out in silver and red. Silver candles in glass holders flickered in the centre of every table and there was a generous bunch of mistletoe – the real thing, this time – hanging just inside the door. Alex had made sure to discreetly appropriate a sprig or two for reasons she was keeping to herself.

Her one major concession to Luigi had been allowing him to display the nativity scene which he was so enamoured of. It sat in pride of place at one end of the bar, looking rather charming, at least from a distance. Closer inspection, however, revealed a different story: Alex was convinced that the Virgin Mary was in fact sporting a beard, and one of the Wise Men bore more than a passing resemblance to Obi Wan Kenobi. She couldn't walk past the thing now without the voice of Alec Guinness echoing in her head. _I bear the gift of myrrh – and may the Force be with you …_

Still, it was a small price to pay for the overall effect. Sitting back, she took a discreet sip of water. No point drawing attention to her abstemiousness, or questions would be asked.

At that very moment, Gene appeared at the foot of the stairs, expertly dodging the mistletoe as he had been since she'd first hung it weeks ago. He'd complained at first, but Alex had only shrugged and told him it was hardly her fault he was so tall and he'd just have to learn to duck. As expected, he'd delighted in reiterating the claim that he was bigger in all departments. It occurred to her that she may be about to finally discover the truth. As he approached, usual pout firmly in place, the nerves kicked up again.

"Its bloody brass monkeys out there. Wouldn't be surprised if it snows later."

Gene removed his coat, signalled to Luigi for something to drink, and looked Alex up and down.

"Nice ter see yer've made an effort tonight, Bolly-Kecks. You got plans for later, or somethin'?"

 _If only you knew._ He slid in next to her, his nearness combined with a distinct lack of sustenance making her slightly giddy. Needing a distraction, she picked up her glass and took a delicate sip.

"Nothing special. Just felt like a change – and it is almost Christmas, after all." She took a deep breath and tried to look suitably nonchalant. "Dunno about you, Guv, but I could do with something to eat. Shall we order?"

...

"By the way, Gene – I've got a present for you."

Alex leant in close, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the commotion. It was heading for ten o'clock, most of CID were well into their cups and the volume of noise had increased steadily over the course of the evening, Chris had just burnt his finger yet again on a flaming Sambuca, and Luigi was eyeing the debauchery with his usual expression of pained resignation. Alex had drunk very little but she hadn't managed to eat much either, and the whole situation had taken on a slightly surreal aspect.

"Is it a bottle of single malt?"

Gene turned to face her, his eyes gleaming molten silver in the candlelight, and the breath caught in her throat.

"Ah, that would be telling, wouldn't it?"

"Yer could've warned me. I 'aven't got anythin' for you."

Alex's mind went straight to the gutter.

"Oh, I think you might have …"

She mumbled it under her breath, and Gene furrowed his brows.

"Yer wot?"

" I said it doesn't matter, Guv. Anyway, you'll need to come upstairs if you want it."

"Bloody 'ell. How big is it?"

"Not sure yet, but I'm looking forward to finding out."

A giggle rose in her throat and she attempted, somewhat unsuccessfully, to turn it into a cough. Gene looked at her as though she'd finally lost the plot.

"Wot's got into yer tonight, woman?"

"Nothing yet, but I have high hopes."

Smirking, she reached for her glass and Gene crossed his arms, eyeing her with suspicion.

"You goin' down with somethin', Madam Fruitcake?"

"More like someone …"

Gene leaned in and cupped his ear.

"Will you stop bloody mumblin' and spit it out, woman!"

Alex snorted out a laugh and bit her lip, attempting to compose herself.

"I'm sorry, Guv. I promise I'll explain later."

Ray chose that moment to head towards the exit with a busty blonde on his arm, waggling his eyebrows lasciviously to indicate he was on a promise, and Alex decided that now was as good a time as any.

"Fancy escorting me upstairs, Gene? Just pretend I'm drunk and that'll give us a good excuse to leave together."

Gene cocked his head to one side and crossed his arms.

"Shouldn't be too hard, given yer recent form."

"The harder, the better, as far as I'm concerned …"

She smirked at him, and he shook his head in bemusement, getting swiftly to his feet.

"You comin, then?"

She feigned a drunken stagger, leaning gratefully into his solid bulk and whispering under her breath.

"God, I really hope so."

Luigi, who was well aware that Alex had drunk very little, wished them a cheery Buona Notte, humming 'That's Amore' under his breath, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

.

...

.

I think we all know where this is heading. Or do we? Maybe the Guv won't like his present, after all …

If you want more, do let me know. Us writers thrive on feedback – that way, we know we're mostly getting it right!

.


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for all the kind comments, and many apologies for the long delay in updating. This chapter has been somewhat of a challenge! It was supposed to be written entirely from Alex's POV, but Gene was having none of it and demanded to be heard, so I had to do some serious rethinking. I suspect the writers among you will be nodding sympathetically, while the rest think I probably need therapy. Believe me, characters do have their own opinions and it pays to listen to them, because they're often right!

On the plus side, this may well be the longest chapter I've ever written. Hope it proves to be worth the wait …

.

...

 **Chapter 8 - Christmas, 1982  
**

 **.**

The two of them emerged from Luigi's into a winter wonderland. Alex gasped in surprise and delight.

"You were right, Guv!"

A thick blanket of snow covered cars and pavements, roofs and windowsills. More continued to fall, oddly hypnotic beneath the orange glow of a street light. For the briefest of moments, London lay hushed and still.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

Alex spun around to face Gene, smiling to see the odd delicate flake clinging to his long lashes before he blinked it away.

"Beautiful. Yes. Any chance we could get inside before me balls turn blue?"

He pouted at her, and she rolled her eyes in mock despair.

"No poetry in your soul, that's your problem, Guv."

Huffing, she set off ahead of him, taking each step with extra care, relieved that she didn't have to walk far. Stilettos in December might not have been the best idea she'd ever had. Gene followed close behind, mumbling under his breath.

"And 'aving all the common sense of a grain weevil is yours. Well, it's one of 'em anyway."

Alex smirked, exaggerating the sway of her hips, knowing his gaze would be fixed on her backside all the way up the stairs.

…..

The flat was blissfully warm, and she left Gene divesting himself of coat and jacket while she wandered into the kitchen to fetch the drinks. Glancing out of the window, she noted that the snow was coming down even harder now. There was a good chance he'd need to spend the night: no point risking an unnecessary drive home in such treacherous conditions. Even the weather was on her side, it seemed.

Butterflies started up in her stomach. She turned to pick up the tray containing wine, whisky and glasses, pausing in the doorway as the breath caught in her throat. Gene had made himself comfortable on the sofa, long legs stretched out in front of him, feet crossed at the ankle. He'd rolled up his sleeves to reveal those sexy forearms she'd developed quite a thing for; he'd also removed his tie and undone a couple of buttons to expose a tempting 'V' of chest. Alex swallowed, willing herself to breath slowly and calmly as her heart rate kicked up in response. Placing the tray on the coffee table, she poured drinks for both of them and raised her glass in a toast.

"Merry Christmas, Guv."

"Bottoms up, Lady Bols."

Her blood heated as a familiar fantasy flashed across her mind: she lay over his desk with her skirt rucked up around her waist while Gene powered into her energetically from behind. Picking up her glass, she took a good mouthful, aware that her hand was shaking. _Get a grip, Alex._

They discussed the team, the case they were currently working on and the reason why Ray's dates rarely progressed past the one night stand stage. Conversation ebbed and flowed, neither of them remotely offended when the other interrupted or finished a sentence for them. They chatted with the ease of two people who were familiar, connected, comfortable in one another's company. Feeling slightly mellow, Alex finally begun to relax and unwind. Until Gene sat forwards, looking expectant, and calmly mentioned the elephant in the room.

"So. Where's this present I was promised, then?"

He took a mouthful of whiskey, smacking his lips in approval, and Alex's heart rate went into overdrive again. The moment had finally arrived: too late to back out now. Squaring her shoulders, she forced herself to stare directly into his eyes.

"Actually, you're looking at it, Guv."

His gaze flicked around the room before returning to her face, his brows knitted in confusion.

"Come again, Madam Fruitcake?"

Her stomach clenched, her chest tightening in anticipation of his reaction.

"Your present … well, it's me, Gene. If you want me, that is."

She looked down at the floor, unconsciously holding her breath, suddenly afraid of rejection. _Oh God, what have I done?_ There was a pregnant pause and then he spoke, his voice gruff.

"I've wanted yer since the first time we met, and you know it."

Her gaze flicked back up to his face, those piercing silver-blue eyes devastating in the lamplight.

"Be sure, Alex. There'll be no goin' back …"

A shiver ran down her spine at the sound of her name on his lips: she knew he only ever used it when he was being deadly serious. She swallowed heavily, afraid that her voice might tremble.

"I've never been so certain of anything in my life."

He blinked at her, a myriad of emotions chasing one another across his face: hope warred with desire, need with uncertainty. Alex's heart contracted. Reaching up, she cupped his cheek and his eyelids fluttered closed.

"I've always been attracted to you, Gene, I was just afraid. Of losing your friendship, of it affecting our working relationship. Still am, to be honest, but I can't run away from my feelings any longer."

She dropped her hand and sucked in an unsteady breath.

"Unbreakable, Bols. Remember?"

Their gazes locked and held, and she knew the longing she saw in his eyes would be reflected in her own. The moment seemed to last forever, and then his lips twitched as he raised one eyebrow in mock challenge.

"So, Bolly-Kecks. Are yer gonna kiss me or punch me?"

Suddenly, any lingering doubts melted away.

"Oh, I suspect the former will be infinitely more fun than the latter …"

Leaning in close, she brushed her mouth tentatively against his and withdrew, holding her breath, awaiting his reaction. She didn't have to wait long. Dipping his head, he ran his tongue slowly, teasingly along the seam of her lips. Alex murmured her assent – and then finally, inevitably, they were kissing. He was gentle, almost tender, at first; his mouth soft, his tongue sliding delicately over hers. He tasted wonderful: wine, whiskey, a hint of tobacco and something indefinably Gene. Her moan of appreciation was echoed by his growl of approval and then suddenly, gloriously, the dam burst and it was all passion and desire and desperation.

When they finally came up for air, Alex found herself seated in Gene's lap, her arms entwined around his neck, her breasts squashed against his broad chest. The fire burning in his eyes threatened to sear her to the bone. Her scrambled brain managed to connect with her mouth long enough to form two coherent words.

"Bedroom. Now …"

…..

Gene watched as Alex moved around the room lighting candles, still wondering if he should pinch himself to prove he wasn't actually dreaming. It seemed she'd spent a lot of time preparing for this evening, even though she was clearly hesitant about taking this step. She was valiantly attempting to hide her agitation, but he'd noticed her hand shaking when she picked up her glass and when she'd trembled in his arms he knew it wasn't entirely down to the kiss. What a kiss it had been, though. His blood heated again just thinking about it and he closed his eyes for a moment, knowing he needed to maintain some control.

When he opened them again she was standing directly in front of him, her eyes luminous in the candlelight. Reaching for him, she began to pop the buttons on his shirt, her trembling fingers made clumsy by nerves. Gene stood immobile, willing himself to be patient, sensing she wanted to complete the task herself. Finally, his shirt was wide open and she tugged it out of his trousers, sliding it slowly down his arms and letting it fall to the floor. Her hands roamed over his bare chest, exploring the dips and plains, her questing fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Leaning in, she pressed a hot open-mouthed kiss to his neck, and a shiver of anticipation ran through him. Alex's hands fell to her side then, and she dropped her forehead to his shoulder with a sigh.

She'd risked so much to get them to this stage, laid her feelings on the line, and he realised it was his turn to step up now. Instinctively, he sensed that she needed to surrender some responsibility and have him take charge. He took a deep breath and prayed that he'd read the situation correctly.

"Turn around, Alex."

His voice was deep and commanding and she stepped back, raising her gaze to meet his. Her eyes were glowing and to his relief, he saw a flicker of approval in their lustrous depths.

"Yes, Guv."

She obeyed his instruction without hesitation, and suddenly Gene knew just how to play it. Moving in close, he swept the hair back off her nape and pressed his lips to the soft skin below her ear. He was rewarded with a murmur of appreciation, and she tipped her head to one side to allow him better access. She smelled delicious; the subtle exotic scent of perfume lingered on her heated skin, mingling with the light citrus tang of soap. With his mouth still caressing her throat, he reached for the zipper on her dress and lowered it slowly, deliberately allowing his knuckle to graze her bare skin. Alex helped him then, shimmying her hips until it slid down her legs and pooled at her feet.

Gene stepped back to admire the view and almost swallowed his tongue. _Holy Hell._ The black basque was a feast of mesh and lace, nipped in at the waist to emphasise her curves. The barely-there G-string revealed that peachy behind in all its glory, and long legs clad in sheer silk stockings ended in those impractical stilettos that only served to lengthen them further. He sucked in a deep breath, attempting unsuccessfully to calm his racing pulse. If he was going to succumb to a heart-attack he'd much rather it occurred after the main event.

Without waiting for a further command, she turned to face him again and stood tall with her shoulders back and her chin held high. Gene's eyes nearly popped out of his head. The basque was cut so low at the cleavage that her ample assets were in serious danger of spilling out. A tiny wisp of fabric masquerading as underwear barely covered her modesty, and he couldn't wait to run a teasing finger under those stocking-tops and stroke the creamy flesh beneath. He whistled through his teeth.

"Jesus H Christ, woman. I could come just lookin' at yer."

"I'd rather you waited a while, if it's all the same to you."

A satisfied smirk tugged at her lips, and Gene attempted to collect his scattered wits, remembering that he was supposed to be calling the shots.

"Lie down on the bed with your hands linked above yer head and keep 'em there until I say otherwise."

Her jaw dropped and she blinked at him in surprise. Gene crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

"Do as yer told, Drake. Or do I have to get the cuffs?"

His voice was low and gravelly with just a hint of menace. Alex swallowed and dropped her gaze, slipping her shoes off before heading for the bed. He couldn't fail to notice that she took her time crawling across the matress, deliberately giving him an eyeful of that curvaceous derriere. Suppressing a groan, he pictured himself taking her hard and fast from behind, and shelved that plan for later. This first time, her pleasure was his priority.

Alex lay down on her back and made herself comfortable, her hands above her head, fingers intertwined. Inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief: his instinct had been correct. There was no way his gorgeous DI would take orders in the bedroom unless she was completely on board with the whole scenario. As she watched, Gene reached for his belt, his gaze never leaving her face.

…..

It was a handy trick he'd learned a while back, the ability to shed trousers, boxers and socks in one swift move. Straightening up, he stood his ground proudly; shoulders back, feet wide apart, chest out, awaiting her response. Alex's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in mute appreciation. His lips twitched in satisfaction: having been blessed with more than his fair share, he was well used to that kind of reaction. _Bigger in all departments, Bols._ At least now she knew it wasn't an idle boast.

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and Gene went from proudly erect to painfully hard in a matter of moments. Reminding himself that patience was a virtue her joined her on the bed, leaning in to give her a long slow kiss filled with intent. She hummed her approval as he traced the shell of her ear with his tongue before nipping at the sensitive lobe. Easing back on to his elbow, he took a moment to admire the view, trailing a finger down her throat and along her collarbone, his featherlight touch raising goosebumps. He traced the rise of each breast and she shivered, her breathing shallow and rapid. Gene continued his leisurely exploration down through her cleavage and over her lace-clad midriff, before tracing delicate circles on her flat belly. She wriggled impatiently, parting her legs in open invitation.

"Gene … please …"

He slid one teasing finger under a suspender, stroking the soft skin of her inner thigh.

"Quiet, woman. I'm playin' with me pressie."

She huffed impatiently and he fixed her with an admonitory stare.

"Good things _come_ to those who wait, Lady Bols."

He deliberately emphasised the appropriate word, leaving her in no doubt as to his meaning, and she bit her lip to stifle an exclamation as he let the elastic snap back against her sensitive flesh. He suppressed a grin, willing to bet that she was already soaking wet.

Running his hand slowly up her flank, he cupped a breast and squeezed, feeling the nipple harden against his palm. Then, without warning, he gave a swift tug on the bodice to expose the straining peak and began to run his finger around it. It puckered even further as if begging for his attention and Alex gasped as he lowered his head and began to lave it with his tongue. Closing his lips over it, he sucked hard, and she moaned and shivered, arching into his mouth. He smirked against her skin, bringing his teeth into play, grazing the erect bud as she whimpered in pleasure.

Without ceasing his tender ministrations, he reached for the other breast, fondling it gently before freeing it from its lacy confines and rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Gene! Mmmm …"

Alex writhed beneath him, her voice breathy, her breathing ragged, but Gene didn't let up. Mouth still clamped to her nipple, he ran his hand down her body and slipped two fingers inside her thong, groaning inwardly as he encountered sleek moisture. Circling, stroking, teasing, he was rewarded with a moan of frustration as Alex rocked her hips against his hand, desperate for more. He could tell she was dangerously close to the edge and he ceased his attentions, unable to deny the demands of his own flesh any longer.

"Need to be inside yer."

"God, yes."

Impatient now, he gripped her underwear and tore the miniscule wisp of fabric from her body. She gasped in shock and he fixed her with a determined stare.

"I'll buy you another. Hell, I'll buy you a hundred if yer let me rip 'em all off …"

Shifting between her parted thighs, he took himself in hand and pushed a little way inside before retreating again. He repeated the move several more times, bracing himself on his hands as he gazed down into her glowing face in wonder. Eyes closed, mouth open, a sheen of perspiration on her glowing skin, she looked gloriously abandoned and all his for the taking.

Unable to wait any longer, he buried himself to the hilt with one smooth, controlled stroke. Alex's impassioned moan was almost his undoing, but he gritted his teeth, determined to hold on. Jaw clenched, he pulled out slowly and slammed back in, and her eyes flew open as all the air whooshed out of her lungs. Quivering beneath him, she wrapped her long stocking-clad legs around his thighs, raising her hips to meet each powerful thrust.

"Let me touch you, Gene … please …"

He paused, grunting his assent, before adjusting his angle slightly. Drawing in a ragged breath, he plunged deep inside her again. Alex whimpered, digging her nails into his shoulders.

"Just there. Oh, God … don't stop … don't you dare stop!"

Gene thrust hard and fast, counting backwards from fifty and praying he would last. Alex slid her hands down his back, squeezing his tight backside, and he bit back a curse. Just as he was about to lose the battle he felt her stiffen, crying out his name as she shuddered into orgasm, clenching around his hard length. With a groan of relief, Gene gave up the fight, driving into her one last time and coming so hard he saw stars dancing in front of his eyes.

Burying his head in her neck, chest heaving, heart hammering, he wondered if he actually was having a coronary. He could feel Alex's pulse pounding against his cheek as he tried desperately to suck air into his lungs, waiting for his vision to clear. Much to his relief, he decided maybe he wasn't at death's door after all. Handy really, seeing as he'd quite like a repeat performance before he shuffled off the mortal coil.

Concerned that he might be crushing her, he attempted to move away but she resisted, entwining herself more tightly around him, her fingers stroking soothingly through his hair. Giving up the fight, he relaxed into her with a sigh of contentment.

…..

Alex lay with her head pillowed on Gene's broad chest, a little smile tugging at her lips, her limbs heavy with satisfaction. _Wow. Just, wow._ Who would've thought that Gene Hunt, her Neanderthal boss, would prove to best the best lover she'd ever had – and by some considerable margin. He'd ruined her for all other men, but she found she didn't care: she only wanted him. He was dozing quietly now, his breathing steady and even, his heart thudding reassuringly against her ear.

"Gene?"

"Hmmm?"

"Will I be getting a present too?"

There was a momentary pause.

"I think you'll find I just gave yer one."

There was amusement in his gravelly tones, and Alex snorted.

"I suppose you did …"

A companionable silence descended. She decided it was probably time to come clean about the reason for her change of heart regarding their relationship.

"Gene?"

"Wot now?"

He huffed in protest and she sucked in a breath, hoping she was doing the right thing.

"I have a confession to make. I went to see Lily."

Gene never missed a beat.

"Of course yer did. Now can I get some kip?"

"You're not surprised?"

He sighed.

"Yer a woman. Yer a detective. I'd 'ave been more surprised if you hadn't."

"You knew? And you're not angry?"

"Why would I be? I've got nothin' ter hide."

Alex considered his comment and decided she had to ask the question.

"Weren't you even tempted to pick up where you left off?"

Gene barked out a laugh.

"No strings sex with a pretty woman? I'm a red-blooded male, wot do you think? Wouldn't 'ave been right, though. Can't give her what she really needs."

"I like her, Gene. A lot."

"Me too, luv. Just not in the way she wants."

Alex bit her lip as relief flooded through her. She hadn't realised how much she needed to hear it until that moment.

"When did you realise she was in love with you?"

He sighed, his arm tightening around her waist.

"Dunno exactly. Suited me ter turn a blind eye fer too long, I spose. Couldn't ignore it after she said it out loud, though, even if she did think I was kippin' at the time."

"By rights, she should hate me, but she doesn't. She just wants you to be happy."

Gene was quiet for a moment.

"I was very 'appy ten minutes ago. As soon as Sergeant Rock recovers, I plan on bein' very 'appy all over again."

Alex grinned, her body stirring again at the thought of a repeat performance.

"Can I lend a helping hand?"

Reaching down, she curled her fingers around his burgeoning erection, and he groaned.

"Wonder if it's possible ter die from too much 'appiness."

"I do hope not. There's a recurring fantasy I'd rather like to turn into reality tomorrow."

She shifted onto her elbow so she could look down into his face. He opened one eye and peered up at her.

"Don't 'old back."

"Well, it mostly involves your nice sturdy desk and me going commando …"

His groan was eloquent.

"A _nd_ that'll do it every time."

She felt him swell and harden against her palm, leaning in to plant a kiss on his pouting lips.

"Well, Christmas is _coming,_ Guv."

"Halle-bloody-lujah ter that!"

He murmured it against her mouth. It was the last coherent thing he said for quite a while…

THE END

...

I don't think he's going anywhere. Although if I were her, I'd steal his cuffs and make good use of them, just to be on the safe side … ;)

.

...

This may well be my last fic, so this is more of a plea on behalf of other writers, present and future. It's true that we have access to some useful info on here. I can tell that hundreds of you are reading. I can even tell which countries you hail from. Handy, but stats don't tell me what you thought of this story. Did I do justice to the Galex? What did you think of Lily? Do you hope she finds a wealthy Gene substitute one day? :)

Your feedback is so important: without it I probably wouldn't have written a second fic, never mind another 50-odd. It doesn't have to be an essay, a few kind words will do. You don't even have to be a member of the site - you can post a Guest review. Trust me, it really can make someone's day. Huge thanks, as ever, to all those kind folk who have supported and encouraged me in my writing. You've already made my day countless times over and I'm very grateful!

…

Finally, *Shameless Plug Alert*! If you enjoy my writing, why not check out the novels by my alter ego, Christina Kendal? I'll be giving the Pirate away FREE for the first time very soon. Can't post links here, but if you follow CK on social media I can keep you updated with freebies and with future projects! :)

.


End file.
